On My Terms
by Kristine Thorne
Summary: This is the response to a challenge. Involves Ric Griffin from Holby City and Yvonne Atkins from Bad Girls.


Disclaimer: Any characters mentioned herein belong to either Shed Productions or the BBc.   
  
A/N: This is the response to a challenge: that two characters from different fandoms be paired with each other. In this case, Yvonne Atkins from Bad Girls and Ric Griffin from Holby City. I had immense fun writing this so I hope you have fun reading it.   
  
On My Terms  
  
She was just coming up to the last fence before the home straight. His horse for the last race that afternoon was called Last Hope, and she really was. Forty three thousand pounds he'd staked on her, and so far she was doing fine.   
  
"Come on, you little sweetheart, come on!" Were his words as he stared at the television in the betting shop. If he lost this race, he was finished. His last penny had gone on this two-year-old black gelding. The woman who had taken his bet came out from behind the counter and stood by his chair as the race continued. They were the only two people there on that cold, Wednesday afternoon in November. Last Hope was currently lying in fourth place, but Ric knew she would make up some ground over the final three fences in the straight. Or at least he prayed she would. Ric had been relieved to see he was the only customer when he'd handed over his cassino winnings. The woman who'd relieved him of the amount which would have enabled him to settles some of his debts and buy his car back from Zubin, was possibly in her mid to late forties. She was wearing leather trousers and a black silk shirt, and by the look of her, ric had no doubt that she had a gun concealed under the counter for anyone who wouldn't pay. She'd simply raised an eyebrow when he told her how much he wanted on Last Hope. No comment, no advice, just that one little gesture that told him she thought he was crazy.   
  
Yvonne Atkins liked the look of this man. It wasn't often she got someone just walking in off the street and handing over that amount of cassino winnings, but she was always happy to help those who did. She rested a hand on the back of this man's chair whilst they watched the race drawing to a close. The odds for Last Hope stood at eight to one, and Ric would make a killing from her if the horse won. Yvonne knew she was taking a risk, but when did an Atkins ever play safe. The little group of horses turned left in to the straight and approached the last three fences. All four horses cleared the first and the second with no problems, Ric's black gelding moving up in to third place. But at the last fence, the horse behind Last Hope tried to overtake, tumbling them both over the six feet of birch twigs in a flurry of hooves and flapping reins. As a chestnut and a bay went forward to take first and second place, Ric simply stared at the screen. Sensing that this man had just lost everything he had, Yvonne moved forward and switched off the tv. Ric sat silently for a minute and then made some effort to pull himself together.   
  
"I don't need to tell you how much I've just lost," He said turning to look at Yvonne.   
  
"You picked that horse for its name, didn't you."   
  
"It seemed appropriate. I would ask you to join me in one last drink, but my wallet will even deny me that." Realising this man really had hit rock bottom, Yvonne said,   
  
"After what you've just put in my pocket, It's me who owes you one." Ric stared at her.   
  
"is this place yours?" He said in astonishment.   
  
"Lock, stock and barrell," Said Yvonne succinctly.   
  
"Then you must be..."   
  
"Yvonne Atkins, yeah. I do live and breathe the same as you do, you know," She said with a grin. "I'm not just a figment of imagination for the lower echelons of the mob to make their kids go to bed at night." ric stood up and shook her hand.   
  
"Ric Griffin," He said, feeling slightly foolish. He'd never dreamt that the woman who'd served him today and on previous occasions had been the wife of one of the most notorious gangsters he'd ever heard of. Ric wouldn't normally have dwelled on the finer details of the mob, but the more you gambled, the more you got to hear of who to trust and who to avoid.   
  
"Oh, I know who you are," Said Yvonne, allowing her gaze to slide over this casually dressed man with clearly African origins. At his raised eyebrow, Yvonne said,   
  
"I make it my business to get to know my regulars, in a manner of speaking." I bet you do, thought Ric. "Would you still like that drink?" She asked.   
  
"After that shambles of a race, I think I need one."   
  
Once in the spacious flat that Yvonne had above the shop purely for her own convenience as she still owned the large house she'd lived in with Charlie, He took a seat on one end of a leather sofa and she poured them both a scotch.   
  
"So," Said Yvonne taking a seat on the other end of the sofa. "How does a good looking surgeon, with what appears to be everything going for him, end up blowing his last few grand on a horse?" Briefly wondering just what else this woman knew about him, Ric took a swig of his scotch.   
  
"Having a gambling habbit is better than dope or alcohol." His thoughts strayed to his son, Leo, who was currently in rehab, and to Tom Campbell-Gore, who had done rehab earlier that year.   
  
"Is it?" Asked Yvonne.   
  
"I used to think so," Said Ric miserably.   
  
"What're you going to do?" Asked Yvonne softly.   
  
"Other than let the Holby killer have her way with me, I don't know." Yvonne would have liked to think he was joking, but she could see something in his face that told her he wasn't.   
  
"That isn't always the answer," She said tentatively.   
  
"When you're sleeping on the couch in your office, and both the woman you're in love with and your best friend have totally given up on you, yes it does look quite attractive. Zubin even bought my car, and I put the money on the roulette wheel."   
  
"Not Zubin Khan by any chance?"   
  
"yes, why?"   
  
"He used to know a friend of mine, that's all." Yvonne's thoughts briefly wandered to Caroline Dewer, who had never been the same since she'd lost what might have been Zubin's baby after the train crash.   
  
"You could take out a loan," Suggested Yvonne, getting up to refill their glasses.   
  
"Been there, done that," Replied Ric. "Besides, no loan company would touch me with a barge pole."   
  
"This one might," Said Yvonne, lighting a cigarette.   
  
"You?" he said in astonishment, and then immediately responded with "No way, I couldn't live upp to your terms." Laying a seductive hand on his well-muscled thigh and handing him the cigarette, she said,   
  
"You don't know what they are yet." Usually preferring his cigarettes to contain canabis, Ric nevertheless took a greatful drag. After handing it back, he put his hand over hers where it still rested on his thigh.   
  
"Attractive as your offer is," He said, "I'm not in the habbit of using my body as a form of repayment."   
  
"And I'm not in the habbit of paying for a decent bloke," Said Yvonne, conveniently forgetting the few she'd had in prison. "Let's just say I was inspired," She said with a grin. Removing the cigarette from her hand and stubbing it out in the ashtray, he rested a hand gently on her cheek.   
  
"Where do I sign?" He asked, looking deep in to her endless eyes.   
  
As their lips met, Ric thought that if this was to be his form of repayment, it wouldn't be half bad. They left their clothes where they landed, and moved without much preamble towards the bedroom.   
  
"I like a man who's eager to fulfill his side of the bargain," Commented Yvonne, staring in anticipation at the enormous erection that was staring up at her.   
  
"And I like a woman who has something incredible to offer in the first place," He replied, admiring her fantastically toned body before him. As Yvonne led him to her bed, she knew without a doubt that she would get her money's worth.   
  
"It's certainly true what they say," Said Yvonne as she moved her hand along the length of his cock.   
  
"Oh?" He said, thinking that not even Diane Lloyd had been this good when he'd dated her at med school, and certainly Sam Kennedy hadn't even come close.   
  
"That men of African origin are very well endowed." Ric grinned. That hadn't been the first time he'd heard that old line, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.   
  
"We are lucky in that respect," He replied, tracing the contour of one of her breasts.   
  
"and a surgeon too," Yvonne's soft, sultry voice was making it increasingly hard to maintain his equalibrium, and he was all too aware that she would like a man who could last the course, not one who fell at the first fence, never mind the last.   
  
"I'm assuming that makes you good with your hands," Said Yvonne.   
  
"Without a doubt," He replied, running a thumb over her nipple.   
  
"Tha'ts good to know," She said, leaning over to continue kissing him. He eventually detached his lips from hers and moved down to enclose a nipple, illiciting a deep moan from Yvonne. I could get used to this, he thought, his hand inching its way between her legs. Normally, Yvonne played a much more dominant role in any bedroom, or lounge, car or swimming-pool for that matter, but knowing this was to be a long-term arrangement, she was content to see what he could do. She wasn't disappointed. The last one she'd had like him had been nothing but a lush, a nothing, someone who just didn't know better. But this one, he was pure stud. As he skillfully coaxed her clitoris in to activity, her legs widened. Still keeping his thumb moving over her clit, he inched two fingers inside her, encountering the clear evidence of her arousal.   
  
"Jesus," Murmured Yvonne, irrevocably losing any cool she might have had.   
  
"No," Ric grinned up at her, "Just me." when she encouraged him between her thighs, and he slid inside her with one long thrust, she wrapped her arms and legs round him to bring them as close together as possible. She could feel every inch of him as he withdrew and then slammed back in to her. Yvonne was pleasantly surprised at how long Ric could ckeep this going. He clearly wasn't going down without a fight. When he insinuated a hand between them to give her nipples some much needed attention, Yvonne could sustain the pace no longer. As she came, her internal muscles squeezed, encouraging him also over the edge.   
  
When he finally eased out of her and they lay facing each other, Yvonne asked,   
  
"So, do we have a deal? You use that forty three grand to sort out your debts, not to put on a horse or the roulette wheel, and in return, I get that kind of service on a regular basis?" Ric gave her a broad smile.   
  
"You bet we do."   
  
The next morning as he made his way towards theatre with Diane and Zubin, he got a text message on his mobile. Stopping to read it, he was interrupted by Diane looking over his shoulder.   
  
"Who's Yvonne?" She asked. Ric slid the phone back in to his pocket.   
  
"She's a woman who makes repaying a loan look exciting." 


End file.
